


Suicide By Werewolf

by TweekTweak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), One Shot, Suicide, and he's still an asshole, ghost au, not terriblyyy angsty considering the title lmao, severus is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TweekTweak/pseuds/TweekTweak
Summary: Marauders Era AU where Severus dies after following Lupin into the Shrieking Shack.





	Suicide By Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

> The idea behind this fic comes from this article, I would suggest having a look at it before you read but you don't need to!
> 
> http://www.mugglenet.com/2004/12/suicide-by-werewolf/
> 
> I haven't read the HP books for some years so details may be a bit rusty, but you get the gist of it! Features a character suicide, take care if this might trigger you!

Severus Snape could be considered many different things; talented, clever, and determined were a few qualities he prized about himself, but of course all Potter and his friends saw was a poor, unattractive, and arguably a little greasy boy (at least that’s what they liked to call him). That didn’t mean, however, that he would allow himself to be taken for a mug by Sirius Black, of all people.

He could feel his blood beginning to bubble angrier than a cauldron of Living Death that had been simmering for too long, as the Gryffindor smiled down at him, all sharp teeth baring in some attempt at appearing friendly - Severus could see right through _that_. Perhaps he wouldn’t have, had he not spent the last six years of his life - years that were supposed to have been a blissful respite from his life at home - trying to avoid the guy and his equally unpleasant gaggle of friends.

It was irritating and unbelievable, to say the least, that Black seemed to think he was some kind of idiot. After all, why - given their history - would Black be openly and willingly offering Severus information if there was no malicious agenda behind it?

Contrary to what Black and his friends seemed to believe, Severus wasn’t stupid. He’d long since worked out that Black and Potter’s (more reserved but equally dislikable) friend Lupin was probably a werewolf - he’d puzzled it out while revising wolf lore for his Defence O.W.L. the year before. Potter and his cronies were all unregistered Animagi (therefore naturally this was no secret around Hogwarts), and they’d so carelessly throw around their stupid nicknames in the classrooms and corridors. _Moony_, Severus’ lip curled, had a general demeanour of ill health and frequently missed classes around a certain moon phase each month.

“I can’t wait for full moon!” Black’s voice boomed over the chatter of the school hallway, and he was quickly shushed by Potter and Lupin. For a change, it seemed as though Severus hadn’t been spotted by the Gryffindors as he made his way quickly between classes; this was totally out of character for Potter and Co, who seemed to have a radar telling them when Snivellus Snape was nearby. Their distraction coupled with Black’s words only further cemented the truth behind Lupin’s… condition, in Severus’ mind.

All things considered, it came as nothing short of a shock to him when, a few days after overhearing this encounter, Black cornered him in one of the corridors and laughed at Severus’ quick drawing of his wand.

“Relax, Snivellus,” he smirked, “I just want to talk.”

Severus, who had been fully expecting a hex to be thrown at him, scowled and tried to edge past, but Black was irritatingly bigger and stronger than he was, at least physically. Not to mention, if he so much as jinxed any of the precious Gryffindors (in self defence) he would be sentenced to scrub cauldrons with Professor Slughorn for at least a month.

“I know you’re a bit of a freak,” Black sneered down at him, flashing a row of pointed teeth, “So I thought you might like to know that we found a way into the Shrieking Shack.”

Severus’ interest had been piqued, not that he’d let Black know that in a million years. He raised an eyebrow only slightly, which prompted Black to continue.

“It seems like the kind of place a slime-ball like you would hang out, so I thought I’d let you know how to get in. Maybe you can hide from mummy and daddy there next summer.”

Damn him - they always knew how to get at Severus, who could feel his magic coursing furiously through his bloodstream. Lily must have told them about his disgusting Muggle father, and the empty whisky bottles on his grimy kitchen counter back at Spinner’s End. If Black continued, Severus wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep from throwing an Unforgivable at the infuriating boy, who seemed to be relishing the thought that he was making Severus squirm.

“Under the Whomping Willow there’s a passageway that leads straight there; just give the knot in the tree trunk a prod with a stick, and it’ll let you right in. Remus is going on Saturday night if you need someone to hold your hand."

Suddenly the situation made more sense; the weekend would bring full moon, and if Lupin _was _going to the Shrieking Shack that night it would be to ride out his sickness away from the school. No doubt Dumbledore had told the wolf about the passage - that man was an utter fool, allowing a lycanthrope to attend Hogwarts. Apparently Black and the others weren’t aware that Severus knew of Lupin’s affection, though.

Somewhere deep in his brain, Severus’ despondent cynicism and Slytherin cunning had begun spinning a web, intertwining and plotting. Black was blatantly trying to murder him, and if he were to succeed then Severus could make life very difficult for all four of the vile boys. For years, Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew had been allowed to throw hex after curse at him and face no repercussions, but, were he to actually perish as a result of their actions, he could take discipline into his own hands, so to speak.

Still, although the four had made it very clear they disliked Severus for his mere existence, it was still a bit of a blow to learn they genuinely wanted him to die in an aggressive and undoubtedly painful manner.

“See you, Snivellus,” Black sneered at him, before stalking off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, and Severus only just managed to bite back the hex that he nearly aimed at the other boy’s turned back.

That night, as he lay in bed, Severus considered the idea more. It wasn’t as though he had much to stick around amongst the living for - sweet Lily had eventually been drawn in by Potter’s arrogant grin, leaving him alone and vulnerable at Hogwarts. Then, when term ended in a few months time, he would have to return to Spinner’s End. His Muggle father was somehow even worse than Potter and the others, even without the use of magic; it would be two long months of keeping quiet and out of the way of his father’s drunken rage.

Lupin could save him the trouble of turning his signature Sectumsempra curse upon himself, or gathering the nerve to leap from the top of the Astronomy Tower. Much like in the Muggle world, self murder was deeply frowned upon amongst the magical community, and being torn apart by a werewolf would be a much more honourable death, saving the old house of Prince from being tarnished by its only heir.

Still, it would be painful, of course - possibly even more so than Sectumsempra, but it would be worth it to see the looks on Potter and Black’s faces when they realised what they’d done, and what was going to come next.

xxxxx

The transformation was harder to watch than Severus had originally imagined it would be. It looked as though Lupin was in a great deal of pain, both physically and mentally, and although he had been a little less involved in his torment than the others, Severus allowed himself to enjoy the wolf’s agony.

Just as Black had said, there was a tunnel leading straight to the Shrieking Shack partially concealed below the trunk of the Whomping Willow. The hard part had been calming the tree long enough for him to find the entrance amongst the shrubbery, then once inside the damp, rotting passageway it was a straight journey in the direction of Hogsmeade. As Severus grew closer to the shack he could hear Lupin’s voice echoing up ahead - it sounded as though he was talking with Pettigrew.

The two Gryffindors reached the shack, and Severus crept inside shortly after them. Hiding in a small broom cupboard infested with cobwebs and dust, he peered through a crack in the door that provided a clear view of the shack’s dimly-lit living room; the place was a mess, aggressively torn apart from years of use as a transformation room.

The other two wizards appeared from another room; Lupin looked more unwell than usual, and was visibly distressed as Pettigrew made some attempt to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, Remus. James and Sirius will be here too, soon.”

Lupin’s pale face flashed with some unreadable expression. Pettigrew seemed to take this as a cue to pull out his wand, mutter something, and suddenly begin to shrink. A small rat scampered away into the shadows from where the boy had stood only moments before.

Remaining hidden, he watched as Lupin’s clothes suddenly ripped themselves from his body as his new form began to take shape. He roared as fur burst through his skin, thick and matted, his pupils dilating in the moonlight that shone through the shack’s cracked windowpanes. His back arched, bone and sinew crunching together as it began rearranging itself within Lupin’s skin.

Severus wondered how many people had witnessed this process and lived to tell the tale. No doubt the wolf would already be able to smell him from where he’d hidden in the musty cupboard, and it wouldn’t be long before its predatory instincts took over.

He indulged himself a little, pulling a slightly creased picture of his only friend from the pocket of his robes. Lily Evans grinned playfully up from the photograph, occasionally winking at him; this was a photo taken long before Potter had wormed his way inside her head - if she saw Severus now she’d probably just sneer at him like the rest. He briefly wondered how his old school friend would react to the news of his death, then quickly remembered that he’d be able to watch firsthand if everything went to plan.

The transformation was complete.

Lupin’s wolfish nostrils tasted the air heavily, and his head suddenly shot round, yellow eyes fixated on the broom cupboard. Severus would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip. This was really going to happen.

It didn’t take long for the wolf to start stalking over towards him, eyes wide and focused, ears and nostrils twitching curiously. Severus briefly considered reaching for his wand and attempting to fight the thing off, but no. The look on James Potter’s face would more than make up for the loss of his measly life.

The wooden door was easily ripped away from its hinges, exposing Severus to the beast. The wolf tossed the wood across the room, where it splintered against the adjacent wall and fell to the floor. Severus felt particularly small as the thing drew over him, pulling him up from the ground and roaring deafeningly.

His wand had fallen to the floor at some point. There was no going back now.

The attack was mercifully quick, although offset by the excruciating pain that pierced into his throat. The sensation of razor sharp fangs sinking into his soft, pale flesh was unlike anything he’d felt before, including his Sectumsempra curse. His breath caught and gurgled in his mangled airway, trapped and choking him tightly.

The crazed eyes of the wolf shone in the low light as it tore him apart, and Severus must have been hallucinating because he could’ve sworn he’d just seen a stag leap into the dusty old living room.

No. It was just Potter, of course. But he was too late; Severus could feel the blood pumping thick and heavy from the wounds in his neck and chest, even as his vision was fogging up with black spots.

“Remus! Stop!” shouted a voice. Potter, the arrogant prick. It wasn’t that when he was turning Severus’ own spells against him and exposing his dignity to half the school. Severus felt himself be dropped to the cold hard floor.

“I didn’t think he’d actually come!” Black. He sounded as though he were trying to reason with Potter, but Severus could see through his lies even as he was dying. “Bloody Snivellus!”

xxxxx

One look at the mangled body lying discarded on the dusty shack floor told Severus that he hadn’t just been having a painfully vivid nightmare. It did, though, confirm that his plan had been successful in more ways than one.

Dying had been a strange experience, and it had taken Severus to somewhere that he couldn’t quite place. He felt as though he’d been away in that oddly familiar room for much longer than he had been - maybe years - but it had still not been long enough, somehow. Still, he’d requested to return, and it seemed that, for the first time since he’d been conceived, Severus had been offered an olive branch.

Lifting a cold hand up to his neck, he could feel marred skin but no pain, no blood.

The wolf was gone, and to where was irrelevant for the moment. What mattered to Severus right then was the reaction of the two dark haired boys kneeling over his empty corpse; one looked unnerved, the other white as a sheet but stoic nonetheless.

“What will we do with him, James?” the latter asked, and Potter snapped back at him, “I don’t know! I need time to think! Fuck, Sirius, you’ve put us in a spot here.”

Severus smirked. Soon he’d reveal himself to the two, but now was time to quietly watch from the shadows as the next chapter fell into motion. The wolf had probably escaped to ride out the rest of the full moon, whether he’d run to the Forbidden Forest to hunt or wreaked havoc in the streets of Hogsmeade. Potter and Black had begun arguing between themselves above Severus’ lifeless body, the knees of their jeans stained black with the dead teenager’s blood. Sooner or later they’d be discovered.

“We _could_ just leave him here,” Black suggested, shrugging, “It’s his own fault he followed a werewolf into a transformation room.”

Potter still looked furious at Black, but seemed to be considering the idea nonetheless. Before he could answer the other boy, a thin, greying figure swept into the shack in a billow of purple robes. Dumbledore. He was closely tailed by Professor McGonagall, her lips pursed and face stern.

“Mr Potter, Mr Black, what have you two been-,” the old wizard stopped talking, taking in the scene before him wordlessly. McGonagall gasped loudly as she caught sight of Severus’ body.

“James-, Sirius-,” she breathed, horrified.

“Where is Mr Lupin?” Dumbledore cut across her, and the two teenagers shuffled uncomfortably, Potter answering, “We don’t know, Sir.”

Dumbledore looked deeply concerned and turned back the way he’d come, muttering something about fetching Professor Slughorn, leaving McGonagall to care for her precious Gryffindors.

“There was nothing we could do, Professor,” Black said, suddenly feigning upset, “We tried to help.”

Enraged, Severus almost stepped out from the shadows then and there, but managed to restrain himself somehow. The time would come soon.

“It’s alright Mr Black, we’ll get this sorted out.”

Severus was sure he caught a quick triumphant look exchanged between Potter and Black, but he wasn’t going to allow that.

McGonagall shooed the two away from Severus’ lifeless shell and busied herself cleaning away some of the blood that had dried into his long hair and left a dark stain on the mucky carpeting. Sombre faced and troubled, Severus presumed she was worrying how this would affect her dear sweet Gryffindors. Merlin knew Professor Slughorn wasn’t going to be helpful when he heard the news - as head of Slytherin he’d, of course, liked Severus to an extent, but just like Dumbledore and McGonagall he was useless when it came to Severus’ unrelenting torment at the hands of the four Golden Boys.

His lack of faith in the potions master was only cemented when Dumbledore re-entered, with the Professor following him in before immediately paling and collapsing into one of the musty old armchairs.

“I trust we will not have to take you away on a stretcher too, Professor Slughorn?” McGonagall snipped at him as he whipped a vial out of his pocket and drank some potion down quickly.

“Of course not, Professor McGonagall,” he replied shakily, “Bit of a shock, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, quite,” agreed the older wizard, “I suggest Mr Potter and Mr Black return to their dormitory and clean up. Mr Pettigrew is waiting there rather fretfully for their arrival.”

“Yes, Sir,” Potter sounded relieved, and he and Black left hastily.

Severus stayed behind, remaining hidden from view, to watch on in silence as the three Professors decided what course of action to take. Dumbledore, in typical Dumbledore fashion, suggested keeping the event quiet lest it were to harm the reputation of the school or the Gryffindor boys involved. McGonagall seemed less impressed with this idea, despite her role as the head of their house.

“If word gets out regarding Mr Lupin’s illness there will be uproar,” Dumbledore said gravely.

“And what about Mr Snape? We can’t sweep this under the rug, Albus, a student has died.”

Slughorn spoke up. “A Slytherin, no less! Had this boy been in any other house you’d be taking immediate action, Headmaster!”

The older wizard sighed heavily, “You’re right, of course Minerva. Let’s return Mr Snape to the comfort of the school and we will work out where to go from here.”

A stretcher was conjured and McGonagall levitated Severus’ mangled body onto it. Severus followed behind at a distance as the three Professors and what was left of himself made their way back through the dingy tunnel towards the Hogwarts grounds.

xxxxx

“You did _what_?!”

Lily’s voice came out louder than she’d intended, startling a second year who had been sleepily pouring over a book in the corner of the common room. The smaller student quickly jumped up and scampered away from the commotion, up towards the dormitories with their reading.

Severus almost wished he could escape this too; where his heart once might have been there was nothing but a dull ache as he quietly watched Potter and Black break the news to her that he’d perished.

“It was just a joke!” Black sulked as she glared at him furiously, tears beginning to spill over from her green eyes and roll down her pinking cheeks. “It was meant to be a joke!”

Lily looked as though she wanted to hex both of the boys standing in front of her. “How could you?” she demanded, “He was my friend!”

“_Was_,” Potter said pointedly, “Until he called you a-, y’know. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember, James,” she snapped at him, “That doesn’t mean I’d want you to kill him, for god’s sake!”

“It was a joke,” grumbled Black again, and she scowled at him.

“Where’s Remus now? You know he’ll probably get expelled for this, or worse, don’t you? Because of your _joke_.”

Lily raised her wand threateningly at Black, before stalking up towards the female dormitories, leaving him alone with the two Gryffindors, and Severus wanted nothing more than to follow her, and comfort her, and just be with her like they used to be. The charmed staircase threw him backwards as soon as he tried to pass its ward, though; strange considering he’d been able to follow Potter and Black into the Gryffindor common room - Severus sincerely hoped he hadn’t accidentally bound to one of them somehow.

He landed in the middle of the common room floor with a dull thud, and Potter and Black both spun around. The hopeful look on their faces suggested that they were expecting Lily to be stood there, and Potter all but screamed when he saw Severus looking up at them.

Swearing loudly, the colour seemed to drain from his face as he spluttered, “What the fuck?”

Black looked uncomfortable too, backing away a little as Severus rose to his feet. “Snape,” he chuckled nervously, “It was just a joke. You know I was just joking, right?”

Smugly, Severus realised this was going to be thoroughly enjoyable. “That’s not what I’ll be telling the Ministry.”

Potter, with the heart of a lion, had collapsed into one of the armchairs and was looking like he might be sick. Black, on the other hand, was suddenly furious.

“_Bastard_!” he exclaimed, lunging at Severus, only to wring his hands together rather than Severus’ neck like he’d intended. “You bastard, we didn’t mean it to happen! James tried to save your skin!”

“You’ll likely face Azkaban for this, Black,” Severus replied coolly, smirking a little, “And I expect your wolf friend will be sentenced to death.”

“You spiteful snake! _Levicorpus!_”

Severus laughed as the spell shot through him and bounced off the opposite wall, almost rebounding directly into Black. If only it were possible for him to still cast spells in death - he’d love to test out Sectumsempra on the arrogant pair. Perhaps even Avada Kedavra, now that there wasn’t enough of him left to be sent to Azkaban.

“I’m sure the Dementors will love getting their hands on you. I’ve heard their kiss is unbearable even to watch.”

Potter seemed to have gotten ahold of himself, as he got to his feet and puffed his chest out a little. “Look, Snape, Sirius and I never meant for you to… get killed. You know Remus wasn’t- he wasn’t there, when he attacked you.”

“He was there when you stripped me near enough naked in front of the school,” Severus sneered, thinking back to one of his more painful Hogwarts memories, “He was there when you vanished all my things onto the roof. He was there.”

“And Sirius doesn’t deserve to go to Azkaban! It was an accident!”

Severus scoffed. “He sent me in to a werewolf’s den. Guilty of murder, as far as I’m concerned.”

James seemed to be searching for an argument, before eventually grumbling, “Look, Snape. I’m sorry for all the things we did to you,” he didn’t sound sorry at all, “But Azkaban is extreme. Surely even you can see that?”

“I despise you, Potter,” Severus replied, “I hope they lock you up too.”

xxxxx

There wasn’t much in the way of an official funeral for Severus.

His mother, Eileen, arrived in Dumbledore’s office by Floo to claim his body, and when Severus followed her home, his father, Tobias, only seemed to be drinking a little heavier than he would on any other day.

Dumbledore honoured his memory with a small moment of silence in the Great Hall over dinner a few nights after his death, but Severus doubted many of the students knew who he was, and those that did didn’t care for him in the slightest.

The tale that had been spread amongst the students was one of fiction; Severus Snape had been experimenting with dark magic in the Shrieking Shack, something had gone horribly wrong, and Potter and his friends had arrived just in time to make an unsuccessful attempt at rescuing him. No one questioned what the Gryffindors might have been doing there in the first place, instead hailing them as heroes and apparently wishing they could Obliviate Severus’ existence from their memories.

The Prophet had somehow gotten hold of the real story, though, so no doubt it had reached the Ministry too - just as Severus had hoped it would. He’d read the article about his death in a copy of the paper that someone had left in the Gryffindor common room, and Rita Skeeter certainly hadn’t held back when embellishing the story with her own grisly touches.

As for Potter and Black; the staff and students alike still seemed to be up in arms, celebrating their bravery as they’d tried to rescue the (undeserving, vile) Slytherin boy, checking if they were alright, and surely Severus’ untimely death must have traumatised the poor dears?! It seemed that even in death he was still a nuisance to everyone, and boy was he going to make himself one for Potter and Co.

xxxxx

The day after Rita Skeeter’s article had been published, Lupin was summoned to the Headmaster’s office by Professor McGonagall, and Severus followed the two Gryffindors there. Dumbledore seemed to be doing his best to appear hopeful, though his lips were pursed tightly and his hands were folded.

“Mr Lupin,” he began wearily as the student took a seat at his desk, “I’m afraid the Ministry have caught word of your affliction. They feel they have no choice but to take action.”

Lupin’s tired, scarred face paled. “Professor, I-.”

“Rest assured, you still have my full support and confidence.”

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Professor McGonagall looked as though she had been crying, her eyes a little puffy and red. In McGonagall’s book, students’ forenames were reserved for only the most serious of circumstances. Good, thought Severus - it seemed as though the wolf was going to get what he deserved (preferably euthanasia). “We will continue fighting your case for as long as it takes. This isn’t right.”

Dumbledore nodded sombrely, and gently pushed a crystal glass bowl of sweets towards the student who declined, looking rather ill.

“What does this mean?” Lupin asked hoarsely, and as if on cue Dumbledore’s fireplace flushed green as a figure burst into the office through the Floo system. A flash of Auror’s robes swooped into the office and spoke briefly with the Professors.

“Is this the wolf?” the man asked in a heavy Scottish accent, nodding towards Lupin.

“Yes, Moody. Please remember, he is just a boy.”

Professor McGonagall made a choked noise and squeezed Lupin’s shoulder. “We’re going to appeal this, Remus. We’ll go to the Wizengamot.”

“Perhaps- perhaps it’s for the best, Professor,” Lupin replied stiffly, “If I did, after all, kill the Snape boy, it might be… a good idea that I don’t return.” The thought that he’d killed seemed to make the boy grow even more nauseous; Severus hadn’t thought it possible considering he’d already been sickly shade of white.

“The circumstances surrounding Mr Snape’s death were unfortunate and regrettable,” Dumbledore reasoned “However, you were already in the transformation room when he arrived there; you would not have discriminated him. Rest assured, we will do our utmost to put this right.”

The Auror’s face seemed to soften just a tad, “Tough one, lycanthropy,” he said sympathetically to Lupin, “Especially in one so young. Well, come along son.”

Lupin got to his feet shakily, and followed Moody back towards the fireplace. As they stepped over the hearth, the Auror grabbed a handful of Floo powder before turning back to face Dumbledore. “A colleague should be along to speak with Mrs Black and Potter within the hour, Albus,” he said, before gripping onto Lupin’s arm tightly, “And I should warn you, I expect the Aurors will want to speak with you too.”

“Thank you, Alistor.”

Severus watched from the shadows where he was hidden as the Auror called out, “Azkaban Prison,” before throwing the powder around himself and the wolf. An explosion of green flames erupted in the fireplace, and Lupin and Moody were gone.

xxxxx

“What if they arrest me, James?”

Fear was an expression that didn’t seem to sit right on the scruffy boy’s face, and it certainly wasn’t one that Severus had seen him wear before.

“They won’t.” Potter didn’t sound certain.

“They took Remus,” Black reasoned, looking pained. “Fuck you, Snivellus!” he cursed the deserted Gryffindor common room, and Severus wondered if they could still sense his presence when he was hiding, “This is your fault!”

Severus stepped forth from the shadows, if only to sneer at the two Gryffindors. “No doubt the Dementors are already feasting on the wolf’s soul as we speak,” he spat at the pair, “You’ll be next, Black!”

Black roared, looked as though he was going to attempt to attack Severus again, and Potter’s arms shot out to hold his friend back. Black’s wand was drawn and aimed directly at Severus’ face.

“Will you two keep it down!” a voice snapped from behind them, and the three turned to look up in the direction of the female dormitories. Lily. “I’m trying to do my Potions assignment and-,” she froze, looking as though she’d seen, well, a ghost.

Severus could feel his mouth hanging open at the sight of his old friend, and he suddenly felt very exposed.

“Sev,” she breathed, green eyes widening before he lower lip began to tremble. She turned and ran back up the stairs.

“Lily!” Severus felt himself call out, and he could hear Potter and Black laughing behind him.

“Sorry, Snivellus,” Potter smirked, “I think she prefers something a little more… solid.”

Spitefully, Severus glared at the two insufferable boys as they sniggered at him, before gliding straight through them.

“Ugh, freak!” Black sounded incredibly uncomfortable as he was sent reeling from the deathly chilling sensation, “Even as a ghost you’re truly disgusting.”

Satisfied, Severus dove out of sight just in time to avoid being caught by Professor McGonagall who popped her head through the portrait hole. “Mr Black? The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office at once. Come with me, please. Potter, try not to go far - I expect you’ll be next.”

Black shot Potter a grim look, before he followed the Professor out of Gryffindor Tower and down the moving stairwells, with Severus sneaking behind them at a safe distance. This was going to be glorious; he could almost picture Black’s face as he would realise he wouldn’t be returning to the Gryffindor common room that night - maybe Severus would be able to leave the castle to watch the Dementors close in on their newly delivered convict?

During some of his more depressive nights alone in the dungeons, Severus had found himself wondering what it must be like to receive the Dementor’s Kiss. Given that it was said to be unbearable even to watch, he could only imagine it to be worse than death; it was sickly satisfying to know that, despite the fact he’d had his trachea ripped from his very throat by a werewolf, Black’s fate would likely be even worse than his own.

“Fizzing Whizbee.”

The entrance to Professor Dumbledore’s office appeared from behind the stone gargoyle, and McGonagall led Black (and unwittingly Severus) inside.

“Good afternoon, Mr Black,” Dumbledore greeted the boy pleasantly, peering over his half-moon spectacles at the younger wizard, as he and McGonagall took their seats in his office. There were two unfamiliar faces also sitting at his desk, who seemed to be doing their very best to appear friendly to the student, despite their strikingly adult features. They were dressed similarly to Moody. “This is Frank and Alice Longbottom,” Dumbledore introduced the pair, “They’re Aurors with the Ministry of Magic.”

“Alright,” Black grunted in response, visibly uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you already know what we’re here to discuss,” Mr Longbottom began, “We’d like you to describe, in your own words, the events which unfolded in the Shrieking Shack last Saturday night.”

Black seemed to be squirming a little, but sounded very sure of himself when he spoke, “Snape was always sneaking around; it was only a matter of time before he wandered somewhere he shouldn’t have been.”

Mrs Longbottom nodded, before asking, “May we ask what business yourself and Mr Potter had there that night?”

Black evidently hadn’t considered that part. Severus watched on delightedly as his tormentor faltered and stuttered out, “I-, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly, apparently deciding whether it would be better to lie or come clean. “We go to be with Remus while he… changes. Give him a bit of company, yeah?”

Mr Longbottom raised an eyebrow. “You frequently spend time around a fully grown werewolf, and yet possess no sign of injuries consistent with werewolf activity?”

“Well,” Black chuckled, “We keep our distance, y’know. Hide in the tunnel and just wait for him to ride it out.”

“You and Mr Potter?”

“Yeah.”

The Aurors didn’t seem convinced.

“So, you are aware of the Willow Passage. Do you have any idea how Mr Snape came to know of its existence?”

Black shrugged, “He was always sneaking around where he shouldn’t have been, that one. He must have come across it by accident.”

“And you and Mr Potter didn’t see Mr Snape making his way through the passage towards the Shrieking Shack? Didn’t think to warn him of the dangers within?” Mrs Longbottom looked at Black intently. Severus wondered if she was using Legilimency on the boy.

“He must have been there before we arrived.”

“And yet yourself and Mr Potter still had time to try and rescue him, as we’ve been told? The injuries the boy received were unfortunately very severe, as you are aware, and he wouldn’t have lived long after the attack began.”

“Uh, yeah,” Black fiddled with a loose thread on his robes, “It was happening as we arrived. Remus took off pretty quickly, I guess. We tried to save him.”

“I still fail to understand how you all made it out unscathed as an adult werewolf burst free from the shack. Very few meet werewolves and live to tell the tale, much less frequently spend time with them during full moon.”

“I guess he left through the front of the shack,” Black suggested, biting his lower lip a little.

“Mr Black, the wolf left through the Willow Passage and was sighted by two students and the gamekeeper in the process. You’ll understand that I am not following the logic of your chain of events,” Mrs Longbottom pressed, furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment as she spoke.

Black sighed heavily. “I-, um,” he stopped, looked as though he was considering making a break for the door, “Maybe it would be better if I showed you how we… are, around Remus?”

The two Aurors seemed a little confused, but waved Black to go on. The boy stood, and took out his wand shakily.

_Fool_, thought Severus smugly; if Black was going to reveal his status as an unregistered Animagus he would be facing Azkaban regardless of Severus’ death. This was easier, and indeed more exciting, than he could have expected.

With a quick tap of his wand, a large shaggy black dog stood where the Gryffindor boy had been a moment before. The Aurors looked a little taken aback but remained composed and professional. They nodded, which prompted Black to transform back into himself.

“I trust you have registered your status as an Animagus?” Mrs Longbottom questioned the teenager, “Make no mistake, I will be checking so you needn’t lie.”

Black hung his head, apparently enough of an answer for the Auror who scribbled something down onto her parchment.

“We tried to help Snape,” Black sounded almost pleading, “I promise.”

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore both seemed satisfied that their student was innocent, the former placing a gentle supportive hand upon Black’s shoulder and the latter pushing the ever full bowl of sweets towards him. The boy took a handful.

“Mr Black,” Mrs Longbottom began, “You understand that failing to declare Animagus status is a criminal offence?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“The Ministry will need to investigate your case further. We will be in touch. For now though, I’m satisfied of your innocence regarding Mr Snape’s death.”

It was all Severus could do to not charge through everyone in the room, to knock Dumbledore’s paintings and assorted knickknacks from their hangings and stands. In that moment, he could have wreaked more havoc than Peeves the Poltergeist on a bad day. Damn that Black; he was a weasel.

“However,” Mrs Longbottom continued, “We will need to speak to Mr Potter before we decide where we’ll be taking this investigation. Professor McGonagall, if you would?”

“Certainly, Alice,” the Professor got to her feet and left the office to fetch Potter, while Black helped himself to more sweets from the bowl which seemed to have replenished itself. Severus wouldn’t allow his tormentors to walk free - if they did he would haunt them for the rest of their days, or until he drove them to insanity.

Black seemed to be able to sense his presence, as he shot a small smirk in his direction, which the Aurors and Headmaster apparently didn’t notice. Dumbledore asked Black how his classes were going, as though he weren’t a murderer.

McGonagall returned shortly with the darker boy, who puffed his chest out a little as he followed her in. He and Black exchanged a glance as the latter was excused from Dumbledore’s office. Severus hoped they hadn’t sorted their story too well.

“Mr Potter,” the Headmaster smiled, introducing him to Frank and Alice, “I trust you are doing well?”

“Yessir,” Potter brushed his untidy hair out of his eyes, looking too sure of himself.

“I suppose we’d better get to it then,” Mr Longbottom began, “You are aware that your friend, Mr Black, is an Animagus?”

Potter looked taken aback. They hadn’t intended to expose their status, evidently.

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

“What is your own Animagus status?” Mrs Longbottom immediately followed up.

Potter seemed to be biting his tongue, and Severus was taking great pleasure in watching him squirm in front of the four pairs of eyes that were on him.

“Unregistered,” he answered eventually, looking a little put out.

“Could you present to us?”

A quick tap of a wand, and there stood the same stag that had burst into the Shrieking Shack on the night of his death. Damned Potter, he was infuriating. Of course he’d picked an animal that reflected his own arrogance and pride. Severus hated him.

Then there was the boy again. He sat back down in his seat, looking a little embarrassed at having been caught. “I’m sorry, Professor,” he addressed McGonagall who was looking thoroughly disappointed in her student.

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Mrs Longbottom scribbled on her parchment once more, before looking up and asking, “Are you at all able to enlighten us on how Mr Snape was able to locate the Willow Passage?”

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid not,” Potter shrugged, “He was just there. There wasn’t much we could do, unfortunately.”

Severus silently prayed that the Aurors were using Legilimency on the boys, or would test them on Veritaserum, or anything that could expose their lies. Certainly they seemed to keep staring at Potter intensely, but the Gryffindor always did have an irritating way of attracting people into his toxic presence.

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Mr Longbottom nodded approvingly, “I think that will be all for now. You are excused, however you can expect an owl from the Ministry after we look into your Animagus case; don’t think you’re off the hook there.”

“Thank you Mr Longbottom, Mrs Longbottom,” Potter smiled pleasantly at them, “Professors.”

“Lemon drop, James?” Dumbledore offered the boy a sweet, and he took one cheerfully before strutting out of the office.

Bastard. Fucking bastard, Severus cursed wordlessly, the urge to destroy the office quickly overcoming him once more. That would be counterproductive, though. He had to stay calm. Potter and Black were guilty, and they _would_ incriminate themselves soon enough. He just had to remain patient.

“Dumbledore, you understand there has been outrage amongst the Ministry and the public since it’s been revealed you have allowed a lycanthrope to attend Hogwarts?”

“I understand completely, Alice, and I can only apologise. I thought, perhaps foolishly, that we would be able to control Mr Lupin’s illness discreetly. Had I ever expected another student would find the entrance to the Willow Passage, I would have reconsidered my decision.”

“How many students were made aware of the tunnel, that you know of?” Mr Longbottom inquired, and Dumbledore furrowed his brow.

“In current attendance, only Mrs Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, as far as I’m aware. It seems as though Mr Lupin told his friends how to access the entrance to the passage.”

Mrs Longbottom kept jotting down notes. “I see,” she said thoughtfully, “And we were made aware that Mr Pettigrew alerted yourself and Professor McGonagall to the situation on the previous full moon?”

“That is correct,” Professor McGonagall answered, “The boy was beside himself; Madam Pomfrey had to give him a calming draught after he’d told us, the poor lad.”

“And how exactly did he describe the events unfolding?” pressed Mrs Longbottom.

Professor McGonagall considered for a moment. “Well, he burst into my office - this was long after hours, of course - crying that Mr Snape was in the Shrieking Shack with Mr Lupin, and that Black and Potter hadn’t arrived on time to help. I was… unaware that he, Potter, and Black had access to the place.”

“As was I, you must understand,” interjected the Headmaster.

“Minerva,” Mr Longbottom said slowly, “You say Pettigrew told you Potter and Black weren’t there ‘on time’. Do you know what he meant by that?”

“Well, naturally I was preoccupied at the time,” McGonagall replied, “But I suppose he and the others were in agreement to meet at the passage for a certain time, and Black and Potter were simply late. Not at all out of character for the pair of them, I might add.”

The Aurors swapped a concerned look between themselves, but began gathering their things together.

“We’ll be in touch Albus, Minerva,” Mrs Longbottom smiled warmly at the pair of them, as she and her husband made their way into the fireplace. “For now, I’d keep an eye on Mrs Potter, Black, and Pettigrew.”

“Thank you Alice, Frank,” Dumbledore answered, his smile lines wrinkling as he levitated his crystal bowl of sweets over towards the fireplace. Alice laughed and accepted a lemon drop, before she and Frank disappeared into the bright green flames.

xxxxx

Severus was intent on winding up Potter, Black, and even their tag-along friend Pettigrew, as much as he possibly could.

Pettigrew had soiled his bedsheets when he woke up late one night to the sight of Severus standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with dead eyes and mangled skin. His panicked yelling woke Black, who pulled back the red and gold drapes from his bed before scowling when he realised what the commotion was.

“Oh yeah, Peter,” he yawned, “I forgot to mention; Snivellus is still hanging around where he’s not wanted. We can’t curse him now, though - it’s not as much fun, really.”

Pettigrew answered with nothing more than a nervous squeak - no wonder he’d chosen a rat as his Animagus (and come to think of it, his facial features were also very reminiscent of a rodent too). Embarrassed from wetting the bed, the sharp faced boy glared up at Severus, who still hadn’t moved from where he was hovering, looking down at him stony faced. The scowl lasted mere moments, before his fearful expression returned.

“Make him go away, Sirius.”

“Fuck off, Snivellus,” Black didn’t move from his bed, and Severus didn’t move from where he was hovering. Pettigrew didn’t get any more sleep that night, nor did he move to clean himself and his bed until daylight was fully illuminating their dorm.

“Did you stand there all night?” Black stared incredulously at Severus as he stretched and got out of bed the next morning. He sounded amused, “Nothing better to do than watch us sleep, I expect.”

Severus turned his head slowly to face the shaggy haired boy. “I would enjoy your freedom to strut around this castle spitting venom while you can, Black. No doubt they’re preparing your cell in Azkaban as we speak.”

“You were there last night in Dumbledore’s office,” Black sneered at him, “They don’t suspect me in the slightest.”

Severus’ lip curled up, “Rest assured, the rat provided all the information the Aurors required, not to mention the sentences you and Potter will be receiving from the Animagus Registry.”

Black paled slightly, before telling Severus to slither back to the dungeons where he came from. Severus left, smirking as he heard Black confronting Pettigrew frustratedly.

xxxxx

A week or so later, over breakfast, the owls swooped in with the morning post and a pair of envelopes dropped onto the table in front of both Potter and Black. They both received one stamped from the Ministry of Magic, while the others appeared to have been sent from Dumbledore’s own desk. Severus remained hidden from view, but watched smugly as both boys faltered over the letters.

It had been a long week, made longer for the two Gryffindors by Severus as they quietly fretted over his death. Not that they’d let anyone know they were scared, of course, but at night when the students began trickling up to bed and the common room was quiet save from the fire crackling in the grate, Black would whisper, “James, I don’t know what I’ll do if they put me in there!”

“They won’t, Sirius. We’ll be fine,” Potter tried to reassure the other boy, despite not sounding entirely convinced himself.

“But the Animagus Registry-!”

“Will see sense eventually,” Potter said firmly and Severus poked his head through the table the pair were sitting at, instantly chilling the warm coffee Black had sitting in front of him.

“Ugh!” he sounded disgusted, pulling back from the table and glaring at Severus, “Would you _stop _creeping around after us?”

“Not until the Dementors have sucked out every last lingering thread of your soul, Black,” Severus answered coldly, “I doubt it’ll be long until the Aurors are back to drag the pair of you off to Azkaban.”

Both of the Gryffindors opted to read their letters from Dumbledore first, ripping the envelopes open, and Severus scanned Potter’s over his shoulder.

“_Good morning, Mr Potter,_

_I trust this letter finds you well._

_I would like for you to report to my office at 11am this morning._

_The password is ‘Acid Pops’, please feel free to let yourself in._

_Kind regards,_

_Professor Dumbledore”_

Potter seemed to be ignoring the second letter, as though it was completely invisible amongst the trays of toast and fried eggs, however Black bit the bullet and opened his own.

_“Mr Sirius Black_

_I am writing to you on behalf of the Animagus Registry at the Ministry of Magic in London, England._

_I am happy to make you aware that your case has been dropped by the Wizengamot, after careful consideration of your age and current situation._

_If you have any questions, please feel free to get in touch!_

_Sincerely,_

_Alice Longbottom_

_Auror”_

Black looked thoroughly impressed in himself for escaping a surefire one way ticket to Azkaban.

“Open yours, James!”

Potter too ripped into his letter after that, and looked equally pleased with his sentencing, or lack thereof. A sneer crept onto his lips.

“We’ll always come out on top, Snivellus,” he said under his breath, apparently aware that Severus had been lurking behind them over breakfast, “It’s time to face the facts.”

Severus despised the Ministry; they were just like the Hogwarts Professors - taken in by Potter and his friends’ smug, arrogant personas, only to baby them and let them get away with (literal) murder. The Wizarding law was very clear on the fact that unregistered Animagi would face at least a year in Azkaban upon discovery, and Potter and Black weren’t babies - they knew the risks when they made the decision to change.

“Yeah, Snape,” Black added, “I don’t know why you bothered coming back - no one wanted you to!”

That was true enough, and Severus was entirely unbothered by the jab. His only family, Eileen and Tobias, were too distracted by their vicious arguments and broken bottles at Spinner’s End to notice his absence, and of course he wasn’t going to be missed at Hogwarts. Perhaps Slughorn would feel a little bad, but the empty chair at the Slug Club dinners would be filled soon enough, and Lily had made it very clear over the past few years that she didn’t care about him as much as she’d claimed.

Black and Potter seemed so unbothered by the fact that they’d actually murdered him that Severus could only assume they were equally as sociopathic as each other. If the Ministry were going to do nothing then at least he could bother them to the best extent he could without his wand to hex Potter’s toenails to grow unnaturally quickly and curse the hair out of Black’s shaggy arrogant head.

“Rest assured, it’s entirely my displeasure coming back here,” Severus answered the boys; it was the truth, but he wasn’t going to allow himself a moment of peace until his tormentors had paid. Still hidden from view, he waited until Black had just begun sipping his morning coffee before reaching up and forcing his hand through it, chilling the liquid as it splashed into Black’s mouth.

Spitting the freezing coffee over the table, Black got up and slammed his fist down hard onto the wood. Several breakfast trays rattled and a few nearby students glanced over to see what the commotion was. Black looked as though he wanted to scream profanities and throw curses around the room, but had somehow managed to bite his tongue just in time. Severus sneered and ducked underneath the table, feeling good in the knowledge that he’d angered the other boy.

“Relax, Sirius!” James rolled his eyes, “Let’s go.”

With that, the two students grabbed their mail and stalked out of the hall without finishing breakfast.

Later that morning, when Potter and Black arrived at Dumbledore’s office, Severus was convinced he was finally going to see some justice; Alice Longbottom was back, her face more serious than she had done the week before. Even Dumbledore himself seemed a little put out.

“Good morning, Mr Potter, Mr Black,” the Auror greeted the pair as Severus snuck into a shadowy corner of the office to watch quietly, “I’m afraid there have been some developments regarding the death of your classmate Mr Snape."

“Alright,” Potter answered stiffly, as Black shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his robes uncomfortably.

“We’ve spoken to your friend Mr Pettigrew,” Mrs Longbottom began, “Given that he was the one who raised the alarm on the last full moon. His statement has proved very helpful to our investigation - it seems he was under the impression that you two were confident you could stop a werewolf attack on your own?”

Potter chuckled a little - arrogant prick -, and said, “Yeah, well, we always have done rather well in Defence class, ma’am. Although I think Peter overestimates our abilities a little.”

“Not that we didn’t try to help Snape!” Black cut in, “Of course we did everything we could!”

“Yes, well. It seemed as though he was expecting your actions to be necessary on that night? Why might that be?”

Severus watched as the two boys bristled under the Auror’s scrutiny, evidently doing some quick thinking.

“Y’know…,” Black began before trailing off, and Mrs Longbottom raised an eyebrow.

“I do not, Mr Black, hence why I am asking you.”

“I don’t know,” Potter answered for him, “Peter is a bit… funny like that. He would’ve been stressed out by the questions.”

Mrs Longbottom pulled a piece of parchment from thin air and began scribbling aggressively, before turning to the Headmaster. “Albus, if you will?”

“Certainly, Alice. Would you care for some tea, boys?” The older wizard stepped away from his desk and towards a small table where sat an old china tea set. With a tap of his wand the teapot began steaming. He poured two teacups full, before accepting a small vial that Mrs Longbottom passed him. He added a few drops of potion to each cup.

“No, thank you Sir,” both boys answered, and Mrs Longbottom set down her quill.

“I’d like you to drink it, boys. The Ministry has granted me permission to use Veritaserum while I conduct my investigation. Rest assured, it is only a small dose.”

Black visibly paled, and swallowed heavily.

“Alright,” Potter sounded surprised, but accepted the teacup the Headmaster held out to him.

Black, meanwhile, looked as though he was considering his chances at cursing the Auror and Headmaster and escaping. Eventually he took his cup.

The two sipped the warm drink slowly, and Mrs Longbottom nodded, satisfied.

“So,” she started after both teacups were empty, “I would like to speak with you both individually. Professor Dumbledore, would you mind terribly waiting outside with Mr Black?”

Dumbledore led Black out of the room, and Severus waited behind to watch Potter’s interrogation.

“Do you have any idea why Mr Pettigrew might have been expecting the need for you and Mr Black to fight the werewolf that night, Mr Potter?” Mrs Longbottom questioned, and Potter shook his head confidently.

“No, ma’am, I do not.”

“I see. And you truly don’t know how or why your classmate Mr Snape found his way into the Shrieking Shack?”

He looked a little more uncomfortable now, but answered, “Sirius told me that…,” he paused, “He told Snape where the Whomping Willow passage was.”

No doubt it pained the proud Gryffindor as he had to snitch on his friend - good, Severus thought - as he looked shocked by the words that fell from his own lips.

“I see, and have you any idea why?”

“No…” Potter said slowly, “But he did say it was meant as a joke - just a joke.”

“Thank you, Potter,” the Auror said, “I think that will be enough for now. Would you mind sending your friend in on your way out?”

Potter left quickly, looking almost as troubled as Black did as he shuffled into the room and sat before the witch.

“Mr Black, do you have any idea why your friend Mr Pettigrew might have been under the impression you and Mr Potter would need to fight the werewolf on full moon?”

“I was bragging,” the boy ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair, “Saying we could manage Remus while he was under the transformation - Peter eats that stuff up.”

The Auror snapped her fingers and suddenly her quill was rapidly scribbling of its own accord. She nodded, “And you truly believe that as two 16 year olds you could handle an adult werewolf?”

The boy considers for a moment. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“And you don’t have any idea how your classmate Mr Snape found himself inside the Shrieking Shack that night?”

Black didn’t answer immediately, his face twisting into an unreadable expression somewhere between pain and horror as the words started falling past his teeth. “I… I told him where the passage is,” he said eventually, “Told him to go on the night of full moon.”

“I see. And did Mr Potter have any knowledge of this conversation?”

“No - not until it was… too late.”

“So, you sent one of your classmates into a wolf’s den, yes?”

Black shook his head vehemently, as his mouth betrayed him. “Yes.”

The fireplace flashed green and Mr Longbottom stepped into the office, as did Dumbledore from across the room. Both looked particularly serious.

“… one so young, how could this have happened?” Dumbledore seemed to be caught in the middle of a conversation with himself as he stepped into the room, taking a seat beside the Aurors at his desk.

“Mr Black,” Mr Longbottom spoke, “I’d like you to come with me, please.”

“Where?” the boy sounded fearful. Severus smirked, thinking back to all the times he’d hidden in fear of Black and his friends; this was well overdue, and he revelled in Black’s terror.

“Come now,” the Auror instructed and the student got hesitantly to his feet, allowing himself to be led over towards the fireplace. Severus crept out of the shadows, just far enough to smirk gleefully at Black. In a cry of “Azkaban Prison!” Black and Mr Longbottom were gone, and Severus felt his lip curl as the last flash of Black’s terrified face dissipated into smoke and nothingness.

Mrs Longbottom looked at Dumbledore gravely. “I’m sorry, Albus. To think a student capable of this… it is- difficult. Especially one from your own house. I must be off, though.”

She stood, her parchment rolling itself up and quickly diving into her bag. Gathering her things, she too disappeared into a flash of green and, as if on cue, Potter burst into the office. No doubt he’d had his nosy ears pressed to the door the entire time - it was surprising that there hadn’t been a silencing charm placed on it.

“Sir! You can’t let them! This isn’t right.”

“Mr Potter,” Dumbledore sighed deeply, taking off his half-moon spectacles and rubbing his eyes tiredly, “I’m afraid the Aurors have no choice. You must understand, Mr Black has been foolish. There is nothing I can do now - I suggest you return to your house for the time being.”

“But Sir!”

“I do not wish to discuss this further, Potter. Please, leave my office.”

xxxxx

“I bet the Dementors _love_ Black,” Severus drawled, drifting lazily above Potter’s bed.

The Gryffindor had already broken the bones in his right hand by throwing a fist at the wall after his friend had been escorted to prison, and Madam Pomfrey had been pleasingly unsympathetic as she treated his injuries.

Two of the four poster beds had been removed from the dorm, leaving Potter and Pettigrew in a disheartened silence, and Severus had been revelling in it. Potter had hexed Pettigrew something awful after Black’s arrest, and something in their relationship had changed too - it was satisfying knowing a wedge had been driven into the friendship of the only two still allowed to walk free.

“If you ever see him again I doubt there will be much left of him.”

“Fuck off, Snape!” Potter spat, “You’ve done enough!”

“You did more than enough while I was alive!” Severus snapped back, swooping down towards the arrogant boy and straight through his body, chilling him to his bones.

The two Gryffindor boys had been sentenced to detention with Professor Slughorn for the foreseeable future, and, like Madam Pomfrey, the head of Slytherin was also acting extremely frosty towards the boys. Instead of cauldrons, he’d initially had them scrubbing the dungeon bathrooms without the help of magic, and Severus had taken great pleasure in repeatedly tipping their mop buckets over, sending floods of water spilling over the tiled floors.

The rest of the Slytherins had been equally spiteful, whether on Severus’ behalf or just to irritate the pair as they cleaned, by smearing questionable things from the potions store over the bathroom walls. When Potter had caught one of the students mid-sabotage, he’d shot Levicorpus at them and Slughorn had barged in to yell at the Gryffindor, while pointedly ignoring the Slytherin that had stolen from his stores. It was satisfying, to say the least, but just a shame the Professors couldn’t have started punishing ill-behaved Gryffindors, say, six years ago?

“Why don’t you f-fuck off?” Pettigrew snarled from his own bed across the room, and both Severus and Potter glared at the mousy boy.

“Shut up, Peter!” snapped Potter, “It’s your fault Remus and Sirius are gone!”

The smaller boy’s lip trembled, and the drapes around his bed suddenly whipped around the metal frame, obscuring him from view. Severus hoped he was crying.

“He’s right though,” Potter turned his attention back to Severus, sour faced, “You got what you wanted, so, now, why don’t you fuck off?”

“Because,” Severus sneered down at the angry Gryffindor, “Watching you suffer is more satisfying than I could have ever imagined!”

“I’ll go to the Ministry!” the boy threatened, and Severus laughed spitefully, “Tell them you’re haunting me!”

“And me!” Pettigrew cried, muffled from behind the drapes.

“Oh please - the same Ministry that’s under the impression you two abetted a murderer and sympathise with werewolves? I’m sure they’ll be _dying _to help you out.”

With a flick of his wand, Potter’s own bed drapes were drawn, as if to try and block Severus out. It was amusing really, how he’d spent so much of his life trying to avoid being hunted down by Potter and his friends. Now though, they wanted nothing more than to be shot of him, and Severus wasn’t going anywhere. God, vengeance was sweet.

xxxxx

“Is he… here?” Lily’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper, the dwindling firelight flickering and illuminating her face a warm amber. She and Potter were alone in the Gryffindor common room. Well, almost alone.

“Yes,” Potter sounded strained, “Snivellus, show yourself!”

Lily batted Potter’s arm at the use of Severus’ old… nickname - not something she’d ever have done if he was still alive, he thought bitterly.

“Sev?” she asked the empty room hesitantly, “Can I… see you?”

Severus considered. It was painful enough just seeing his former friend peering uncertainly around the room, but to talk to her? To be close enough to reach out and touch her with his cold, pale hands?

Sighing heavily, he stepped out slowly from the shadows, dark eyes fixated on his old friend. Her own emerald eyes widened.

“Sev. My god, what have they done to you?”

“We didn’t do anything!” Potter protested irritably, and Lily shut him up with an icy glare.

“Does your… neck hurt?” she turned back to face Severus, sounding a little choked up as she as she stared at his marred skin. He reached up, ran the pads of his fingers over the shredded skin of his neck lightly. Mercifully it didn’t feel like his trachea was hanging out, or anything gory like that. Although St Nicolas’ botched beheading was pretty cool and grisly, something about the idea of his windpipe sticking out of his throat even as a ghost, made Severus feel a little queasy.

“Nah,” he replied, “Not anymore.”

Lily appeared to feel a little ill at the mere sight of his mangled throat and the thought of how it came to be that way.

“I, um, I’m sorry for how James and the others treated you,” she croaked, pointedly not mentioning the part she’d also played in his torment over the last couple of years of his life, “It wasn’t right.”

Despite himself, Severus couldn’t stop the small sneer from curling onto his lip; of course it wasn’t right. Lily was a smart girl, and had to have known that fact long before his death, and yet she’d played her own part in all of the cruel ‘jokes’ and teasing. While it was true that he had once called her a Mudblood - Severus didn’t think he’d ever forget how crushed she’d looked in that moment - she had been giggling behind her hands as Potter and Co pushed him around long before that day, even when they were still supposed to have been best friends.

“No,” he answered frostily, “No, it wasn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them.”

“Enough, Snape,” Potter sounded irritated, “It’s not Lily’s fault you went and got yourself killed!”

“James!”

“No, _Potter_, it was yours and Black’s - whatever’s left of _him_.” Severus smirked, thinking of Black lying in Azkaban with a cloaked Dementor feeding on him.

Severus could hear Potter’s teeth grinding as his Transfiguration textbook closed with a loud snap. He grumbled something to Lily about going to bed and stalked up towards the dormitory he shared now only with Pettigrew (who had taken to staying in bed whenever he didn’t have classes, hiding fruitlessly from both Severus and Potter), leaving Severus to debate on following him or staying with Lily.

“I, uh-,” Lily didn’t seem to know what to say, “I _am_ sorry, Sev.”

Severus almost wanted to lash out at her, cut her up with some harsh truths, but he didn’t. He watched quietly as his oldest and only friend played with a strand of her red hair, almost too nervous to even look at him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help. I’m sorry I… wasn’t the nicest to you, in the end. Life was unfair to you, Sev, and I’m sorry.”

It was true, he supposed, that some aspects of his life could’ve been considered unfair. Being born into poverty for example, to a family who didn’t love him, was very unfortunate, but Potter and Co, his classmates, and even Lily herself? They _chose _to hex him day after day, or watch on without doing a damn thing, and she expected forgiveness under the guise of ‘life isn’t fair’?

“Alright,” he answered stiffly, and she seemed a little surprised at his answer, as though she’d been expecting him to accept her apology. “I’d rather not discuss this, Lily.”

Visibly put out, she pouted, “Oh, alright then. Well, I guess I’ll be going to bed, then. Goodnight, Sev.”

Severus nodded his head only slightly in acknowledgement, and with one final sad look she lifted her abandoned Potions homework and retreated up to the female dormitories.

Severus considered retreating up to the male dormitories and harassing Potter and Pettigrew (the latter was particularly fun to torment, and had wet the bed on several more occasions since the fist time), but instead decided to take some time for himself. He sat down at the edge of the hearth, cross legged on the red and gold rug, and could swear he almost felt the heat from the dying fire.

Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that he was, indeed, dead, all things considered; the cold that wrapped around him even at the fireside and the marring around the front and left side of his throat almost served as an inconvenience more than anything else.

He thought of Lily, and how she’d grown since he met her in Cokeworth all those years ago. It felt like a different lifetime, and now he supposed it really was. She was truly a fantastic witch, and her friendship had been nothing short of an honour while it had lasted. Sighing heavily, he supposed he couldn’t blame her for choosing Potter’s friendship over his own; she was, after all, a fellow Gryffindor and apparently being seen to be anything short of vicious to a Slytherin was a crime of the highest honour in that house.

He thought of Cokeworth as a whole, and what had been there for him to return to; a grubby terrace home on Spinner’s End, blackened from the mills and factories sprawling just beyond the rows of houses that chugged smoke over the Muggle town and choked anyone who dared set foot there. He thought of Tobias Snape, and the glass bottles he broke his teeth on, and how he’d throw Severus and Eileen around their cramped kitchen like ragdolls. How Severus wished Eileen had had the guts to take him and run, go anywhere they could to be free from Tobias together and live a simpler life.

There had been a time when she’d wait until Tobias went out for his work day, before digging out an ancient rusting cauldron and teaching Severus how to make basic potions. Now she looked perpetually tired, from the moment she woke until her head hit the pillow again. Life at Spinner’s End was quiet, and excruciatingly un-magical now.

He thought of Lupin and Black, how the Dementors would slowly feast on their souls, and how they might never see the light of day again. He thought of Pettigrew, lying friendless and terrified in a tangle of bedsheets soaked through with his own piss. He thought of Potter, angry and defiant and devoid of the three friends he’d once relied on as a pedestal, now (although still arrogant and infuriating as ever) lying alone and quiet in his bed.

He thought about the oddly familiar place he’d visited when he’d died, irritated that he still couldn’t place where it was.

Severus began to wonder if he might still be able to move on.

xxxxx

“Do you ever plan on, y’know, fucking off?” Potter asked tiredly one morning as Severus glared at him over the breakfast table. Of course, he was hidden from everyone in the Great Hall including Potter, but the irritating boy somehow always knew when he was there.

Severus had been considering it more and more as the days went on, actually, but he wouldn’t let Potter know that in a million years.

It had become clear, judging by the Prophet articles and Chinese whispers spreading through the castle, that neither Lupin nor Black would ever be returning to school. Apparently Dumbledore and McGonagall had indeed taken Lupin’s case to the Wizengamot where they were swiftly rebuffed by the vast majority. One third year Hufflepuff had even been doing rounds of the school insisting that Black had been given the Dementor’s Kiss, 'trust me my dad works at the Ministry!’

Whether that was true or not, the shaggy haired teenager was a sorry sight in the photograph attached to Rita Skeeter’s latest article; the boy once full of life was withdrawn, face pulled tight into something that couldn’t quite be considered a scowl, and it looked as though the bags under his eyes were weighing him down. Potter had looked broken when he saw the picture. Severus, on the other hand, had just about died laughing.

“Not until you’re put into the ground, Potter,” Severus answered coolly, reaching across the table and shoving his cold fist through the Gryffindor boy’s morning cup of tea - his favourite move, as of late. It was somewhat surprising that Potter still bothered pouring himself a cup every day, considering he’d probably managed to finish at most two of them in the same number of months, and that was only because Severus had been feeling generous on those occasions.

“Isn’t there, like, an afterlife you could go to?” Potter wondered aloud, “Somewhere nicer than here?”

It was an odd tone for Potter to take with Severus; he sounded almost thoughtful, with only a pinch of malice in his voice.

“Oh, I forgot. It’s Hell you’d go to.” There it was.

“The preferable choice over Azkaban,” he snipped back, “I heard there’s not much left of your friends now, is there Potter?”

Potter’s teeth were grinding again as he left the breakfast table, abandoning his untouched plate of bacon and eggs. Severus followed him through the school hallways and up a flight of moving stairs.

“What will it take to make you go away?” he stopped on a landing near the transfiguration classrooms, turning to face Severus.

“Who says I want to? This is the most fun I’ve had in… well, sixteen years or so.”

“I’ll tell Dumbledore,” Potter threatened, “He’ll put a stop to this!”

“The same Dumbledore who sent your closest friends to Azkaban?”

Potter made it too easy sometimes. The boy clenched a tight fist, before exhaling slowly and releasing it. He glared at Severus, infuriated, before turning and stalking off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

xxxxx

“… never even considered that he could’ve come back! Mr Snape? Mr Snape?”

Professor McGonagall’s voice was uncertain as she called his name into the Gryffindor common room. Dumbledore and Potter were standing just behind her at the portrait hole, Potter with his arms folded and staring directly at Severus.

“He’s there,” he pointed in the direction Severus was hiding. Severus sneered at him.

“Severus?” Dumbledore tried, “Could we talk?”

The last thing that Severus wanted was a talk with the old wizard, but still it could be interesting. It had been… some time since his death (time had become somewhat indistinct since he’d returned from that strangely familiar place, but he reckoned it must have been three months or so) and Potter’s company was as unpleasant and lonely as ever.

He stepped out from the shadows, smirking at the three Gryffindors.

“Ah, Mr Snape, hello!” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, peering down at Severus over his half-moon glasses as though he was any other student. “Mr Potter claims you’ve become quite the nuisance to him?”

Severus didn’t answer.

“How have you been, Severus?” McGonagall inquired, and he shrugged slightly.

“Oh, you know, Professor,” he replied tartly, “While I should’ve been revising for your N.E.W.T. class, I’ve been a bit busy being dead.”

The witch looked rattled by the comment, but chose not to reply.

“Yes, well. As I’m sure you’re aware, Misters Lupin and Black have been suitably punished as the Aurors saw fit,” Dumbledore offered in what must’ve been intended as a comforting tone.

Severus snorted. “_You_ wanted to keep it hushed up,” he spat, “When I died! Lest any of the precious Gryffindors be affected!”

Dumbledore seemed a little put out, and rubbed the back of his neck apologetically, “Yes, well you must understand it was a very… stressful night for all involved.”

Severus wanted to throw something, could swear he almost felt his magic pulse through his empty veins.

“As it is, I suggest you leave Misters Potter and Pettigrew alone now; they are without their friends, and have been serving detention with Professor Slughorn for nearly three months now. A suitable amount of punishment, yes?”

“Certainly - cleaning floors and dirty cauldrons is almost as traumatic as being murdered, is it not?”

“It was a _joke_!” Potter snapped angrily, “An _accident_! And now I can’t get more than an hour of sleep because you stand at the foot of my bed until the small hours!”

“Isn’t it time to give the boys a break, Severus?” McGonagall urged, “Rest assured they will be living with the consequences of their actions for the rest of their lives.”

Annoyingly, Severus _had _been starting to feel weaker and fainter as the days went on. He’d been considering the fact that he might have been lingering out of sheer spite at this point - although it was still satisfying to watch Potter and Pettigrew make their futile attempts to shake him, it was tiring to know that the only purpose for his existence was _them_. He missed magic; it had been everything to him and it was painful to know he’d never cast even the simplest of spells ever again, nor could he relax over a bubbling cauldron until he’d created an artisan vial filled with his soul.

“This is no existence, Severus,” Dumbledore said softly, “Surely you already know that?”

“I never had an existence, Professor,” Severus replied hoarsely, “You and the other teachers made sure of that when you allowed me to be… exposed by Potter. Quite the strange experience, being stripped in public and still somehow feeling… invisible.”

Professor McGonagall bristled, and she turned round to glare at Potter who shrunk backwards morosely.

“I’m sorry, Mr Snape,” she said, clearing her throat and sounding thoroughly ashamed, “I’m sorry for the actions of my house… and myself, and the other Professors. I have to admit, I didn’t realise things were so serious - no one to blame but myself for that, of course.”

Severus hovered lazily above the three, watching as their patience seemed to dwindle a little.

“Please…” it was Potter who broke the silence first, “Please, just leave me alone.” He sounded worn down, tired, and Severus allowed himself a moment to take in the shadows beneath Potter’s brown eyes and the sickly complexion that was almost reminiscent of Lupin. “I’m sorry.”

“Why should I?” Severus sneered down at the boy, watching him squirm.

“Because you’re not happy, Severus,” Dumbledore answered for the student, and Severus stared at him. “You’re not happy, here.”

He was right, of course. Severus doubted he’d known happiness in his entire life - the time spent with Lily might have come close, but he’d long since forgotten what it felt like to be near her.

“I hate this place,” he eventually tells the room stonily, “I hate all of you.”

“Then you know where you must go,” Dumbledore smiled a little, and Severus raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“On.”

xxxxx

“I am… sorry, Snape.”

Judging from the look on Potter’s tired face, he didn’t _entirely _mean his words. Still, Severus didn’t really care either way.

“Maybe… maybe you’ll be happier there, when you go,” the Gryffindor continued, faltering slightly. Severus deeply hoped that the forced attempt at niceties was cutting Potter up inside.

Pettigrew peered over at the two boys from his own bed, the drapes pulled back just enough for his sharp face to poke out. “Is he going?” he jerked a hand towards Severus, sounding hopeful, and Severus glared at him nastily.

“Would you rather I stayed, Wormtail?” he snapped, and in response the boy shot back behind the curtains in a quick cry of “No!”

Severus turned back to face Potter. “Look after Lily,” he asked stiffly, “Please? Keep her safe. She was my… my only friend.”

A slight nod was the only answer, and Potter looked deeply troubled. Severus said nothing more.

He drifted down the stairs towards the deserted Gryffindor common room, the embers of the evening’s fire crackling amicably in the hearth, and Severus took a seat before it, crossing his legs and imagining he could feel the warmth one more time.

He closed his eyes.

_On_.

When he opened them again, he suddenly knew exactly where he was - how had he not realised before? It had been obvious, almost painfully so, that he was standing in Kings Cross Station.

Steam billowed through the platforms as train engines chugged loudly, and Severus didn’t feel the need to cough as the fumes choked him. Someone was holding his hand tightly. Looking up he found himself face to face with Eileen, devoid of the age lines and tired eyes he was so used to seeing on her face. She was smiling.

“Are you ready, my darling?” she asked him in the sweetest, softest voice he’d ever heard.

“Yes, Mum!” he replied excitedly, leading her towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.

As the two burst onto Platform 9 3/4, Severus allowed his mum to wrap him up in a tight hug that cradled him in spices, and potion ingredients, and so much _warmth_.

When he boarded the train and found himself in a carriage with three other occupants, he waved vigorously out the window as his mum faded into distance with the platform, before turning to face the three others.

“Hi,” he greeted them, “I’m Severus Snape!”

“Lily Evans!” a red haired girl extended a hand to shake, and offered him a friendly smile.

“James Potter!” a wild haired boy sat beside her, and he grinned at Severus, “Nice to meet you!”

“I’m Sirius Black!” the third occupant, a rough-around-the-edges kind of boy, introduced himself from where he sat beside Severus himself, “Likewise!”

As the train chugged onwards through British countryside and up towards Hogwarts School, Severus couldn’t help shake a nagging feeling that he couldn’t understand. Had he once worried about going to school? As he got to know the three others in the train carriage, he couldn’t imagine why that might have been.


End file.
